Here we are! The final chapter! Thank you again for all the lovely comments and support. I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

Chapter 9

The garden was spinning. The dark hour of the night crept along the edges of Emma's vision, closing in with a tunneling effect that left her feeling off balance.

Until she remembered to breathe.

What the hell was he doing here? How had he found out who she really was, and where to find her?

Beside her, Killian went rigid as Neal introduced himself, his features darkening, nostrils flaring, and his jaw ticking as he glanced down at the proffered hand. Emma's hands balled into fists at her sides when a goading look crossed Neal's face.

"I'm-"

"I know who you are," Killian stated through clenched teeth. "And you have some nerve showing your face here."

Neal seemed unfazed by Killian's anger. In fact, if Emma didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was surprised by Killian's admission.

"Do you?" he said. "I wondered whether she told you. Thought maybe she'd found herself a dupe to pass off the kid to. Wouldn't be the first time she lied to a lover. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

Killian took a lunging step forward, but Emma grasped onto his arm before he could make good use of his own fists.

"When I saw you two trading champagne flutes back and forth so it would look like Emma was drinking, I figured he knew you were knocked up, but I wasn't sure whether he knew the whole truth."

"You… you've been here this whole time?" Emma questioned. "How? How did you even know-"

"I saw the announcement in the paper. Nice photo, by the way," he told them with a heavy dose of snark. "I got hired on as supplemental staff for the party."

"Why?" Emma demanded. "What possible reason could you have for coming here? If you think for even a moment that I would consider taking you back, then you are absolutely out of your mi-"

She was cut off by his laugh; a dismissive and insulting sound that forced her to tighten her hold on Killian's arm.

"No, no, sweetheart," he said, wiping away the amusement at his eyes. "I came to offer you something."

"Offer me what?"

"Call it a wedding gift." Reaching into his jacket pocket, Neal pulled out envelope.

It took her a moment to realize what he was holding, but once she did, her stomach fell away and gasp caught in her throat as she choked out, "My letter."

"Aw, you guessed it," Neal taunted with a fake pout. "Yep, it's the letter you sent me. The one telling me you're pregnant and that the baby is mine. I thought you might want a chance to get it back before I… well… before I shop it around to interested parties."

"You're blackmailing me?"

Neal's face scrunched with feigned disgust. "Blackmail is such an ugly word. I'd prefer to think of it as offering you an opportunity to buy back something that might otherwise cause a scandal to-"

"What's your price?" Killian asked in a steely tone of hushed menace.

Once again, Neal didn't appear troubled. If anything, the entire affair seemed to amuse him.

There was nothing amusing about the number that slid off his tongue a moment later, however.

"Have you lost your mind?" Emma exclaimed, only barely managing to keep her voice down, lest their guests or any of the staff that might be milling about should overhear. Honestly, she was surprised her family hadn't already sent someone to come find them. "I'm not giving you a single-"

"We'll pay."

"What?" Emma's eyes snapped up to her husband's, incredulous at the fact he would agree to pay Neal's blackmail. "Killian, no! I'll tell my family the truth."

"It isn't your family I'm worried about," he told her. His hardened gaze was still fixed on Neal. "It's the scandal it'll cause. It's what society will think."

With a soft prompting of her hand beneath his chin, Emma pulled his focus away from Neal and down to her. "I don't care about the scandal. I don't care what society thinks of me."

Killian's brows became pinched and his lips pressed together before he replied in a pained whisper, "What about the baby?" His jaw tightened and his Adam's apple bobbed briefly as he swallowed down whatever feelings were trying to rise to the surface. "I don't want this child growing up with the label of 'bastard' hanging over it, do you?"

Emma stood silent for a long moment, her heart aching at the thought of what their child would endure from society, from their peers, the stain of her indiscretion snapping at their heels all their life. Killian was right. She didn't want that for their child, but there was no way she could come up with the amount Neal was asking for without raising a number of questions; a fact she whispered to Killian in a tone of despair.

"Perhaps not," Killian replied with resolve. "But I can."

Emma's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "No!" she protested. "You can't use Liam's money for this!"

"I can think of no better use for it than to protect my wife and child."

The flutter of Emma's heart from the way Killian's eyes fell to her abdomen with an expression of such tenderness and protective zeal was stunted by Neal's snorting scoff. "Your child?" Crudely, Neal's gaze ran over Emma as he indecently quipped, "I think you forgot who got there first, buddy."

This time, Emma didn't stop Killian's arm from rearing back before letting his fist fly, decking Neal and landing the odious man on his backside.

"Get. Out," Killian growled menacing as he loomed over Neal's prone form. "You'll have your money Monday morning. Meet me here an hour after the banks open and we will settle the matter once and for all. After that… We'd best not ever see you again."

The reality of Killian's fury finally seemed to permeate Neal's dull-witted senses. After picking himself up off the ground, he swallowed awkwardly and mumbled an acknowledging, "Monday then," before skulking out of the garden.

Emma pressed a hand to her chest in a vain attempt to soothe the ache that was growing exponentially from within. Her shoulders shook from the shuddering breaths forcing themselves in and out of her lungs as she fought back the angry and guilt-riddled tears burning behind her eyelids. Killian's arms enveloped her, drawing her into his embrace with murmurs of comfort muffled into her intricately coiffed hair. A tender brush of his lips over her temple was the final straw. How could he be showing her such care and compassion after what had just transpired?

"I'm so sorry," she said into his shoulder, choking back a sob. "I'm so, so sorry, Killian. Truly. I never… I never meant to…" Pushing against his chest, she stepped back and wrapped her arms protectively around herself. "I bet you regret ever meeting me on that train platform."

An alarmed expression of bewilderment took over Killian's features, and he reached out to take hold of her once more. "Why would you even think that?"

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the errant tears that broke free from her lashes.

"If not for me, you would be back home with Nemo right now. Using your brother's money to finance the life you wanted instead of being stuck with-"

"Enough," he declared with a firm yet loving tone, tilting her face upwards so she was forced to look upon him. "I regret nothing of that day, Emma. I regret nothing of the weeks we've spent together, nor of the future that awaits us. Do you hear me? I regret nothing."

"But the money…"

A soft smile spread over his lips and reached into his jacket pocket to procure a folded piece of paper. "The money is of no consequence," he informed her while handing over the paper. "It's being used for exactly what it needs to be used for."

Emma's eyes widened as she read over the contents of the letter, then her gaze snapped back up to her husband. "Nemo gave you a ship?"

"Actually," he corrected with a chuckle. "He gave us a ship. Or controlling interest of one, anyway. Controlling interest with the option to invest further into the company at any time."

"I don't understand… what? What does that mean?"

"It means," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "We don't have to choose between the estate and the sea. We can have both, and pass on whichever legacy suits this, or any of our children, when they come of age. We don't need Liam's money, and while I am loath to give that man anything other than a sound thrashing, it's a small price to pay to ensure our child's happiness and prospects in the long term."

Emma's head shook in disbelief as she stared up at the wonderful man before her. How had she gotten so fortunate that day on the platform? How could she have ever mistaken this honorable, caring, and gorgeous man for a no-good heel like Neal? Thank God she had!

Killian was right. Their child deserved better than to be labeled a bastard before they even had a chance to be born, especially when such a moniker couldn't be further from the truth. Killian was her husband and, as far as she was concerned, the father of her baby, so if he felt buying Neal off was for the best, then she would trust his judgement and resolve.

She'd just finished voicing that to him when a throat cleared at the edge of the garden. "Begging you pardon, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, but young Mister Nolan is asking for you."

Emma groaned and a chuckle sounded from Killian's chest. "Come, love," he said, taking her hand. "Let's see how badly off Leo is after what I am sure has been a number of pilfered champagne flutes."

"Killian," she whispered, tugging on his hand to slow their return. "About Neal-"

Killian stopped and cast his eyes towards the young servant who'd been tasked with finding them, ensuring he was out of earshot before peering down at her. "I'll see to it, love. I'll make up an excuse to tell your father and George about why I can't travel back with you all Monday morning. I'll settle the matter with Neal after you've all gone, then catch a later train back to the estate." When she opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off with a soft press of his fingers to her lips. "I don't want you to give that man another thought, and I don't want to give him the satisfaction of another audience with you. So, please, Swan. Let me do this alone?"

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation then let go a soft sigh before nodding her agreement. "As you wish."

~/~

It was difficult for Killian to not give in to the temptation to pace the length of the study as he awaited Cassidy's arrival. After seeing his wife and her family off at the train station, Killian had presented himself at the bank in order to withdraw the funds demanded for Emma's former paramour's silence. The bank notes weighed heavily against his heart where they rested in his interior pocket, but not because he was suddenly unsure of his course of action.

A man had a duty to protect those within his care. Emma was his wife, she and the baby were his family, and he would do whatever necessary to safeguard them. However, after having been welcomed into a greater sense of family than he ever thought possible, Killian was feeling rather unsettled about keeping all of this a secret from the others.

They had discussed it the day before, he and Emma. Whether they ought to tell her family the truth; about the baby, the circumstances of their meeting, the ruse that became real, Neal, the blackmail, all of it. Agreeing that it would be best for her family to know, lest Neal attempted to fleece them with the tale and his threat of scandal, Killian had insisted they wait until after he'd dealt with the man himself. It would be difficult enough to face their shock, hurt, and possible ire, he didn't want to sully those relationships further by tainting them with the prospect of blackmail.

The sooner the entire affair was over with so he could make his way back to Emma and face her family together, the better.

"Mr. Neal Cassidy to see you, Mr. Jones," the butler announced.

Killian gestured that the man be shown in then made his way to the desk, positioning himself behind it, though he remained standing, and transferred the bank envelope from his pocket to the mahogany surface in front of him. The smug swagger in Cassidy's step made Killian's fist clench with a fresh desire to blacken the man's other eye, but he kept hold of his restraint. He wanted to dispense with this unpleasantness quickly and without stoking the servants' suspicions as to the nature of the man's visit.

"That it?" Cassidy inquired, nodding to the bulging envelope laying atop the desk. Although Killian couldn't really say what proper manners might look like under such circumstances, the man's flagrant disregard for any merit of propriety rankled him nonetheless.

"Aye," Killian replied. When Cassidy reached for the envelope, Killian slapped his hand over it, his gaze unyielding as he demanded. "Let me see the letter first."

Producing the letter from his own pocket, Cassidy tossed it onto the desk. Killian maintained his steely stare, warning the man to not make a move towards the money, as he removed his hand in order to read over the contents of the letter.

"Does anyone else know about this?" Killian asked, hoping to distract himself from the heartache constricting his chest as he read Emma's words. Words tinged with both anxiety and hope, with an underlying affection that had his gut turning over.

All it would have taken for Killian to have missed out on the greatest gifts the fates could have ever offered him, was for this man to have shown up on that train platform. What if Cassidy had chosen differently that day? What if Emma had never mistaken him for the man she'd been waiting for? What if he'd turned up at the last moment, and Killian had been forced to spend the night on that bench outside the ticket office?

Killian didn't wish to ponder those what ifs.

"I didn't tell anyone about the letter," Neal answered. "Truth be told, I didn't want anyone to know I'd knocked up some girl. Didn't want the responsibility to come back down on me. If I'd have known who she really was though…"

Cassidy left that statement hanging between them, perhaps hoping for some sort of response. When he didn't get it, he added, "I have to hand it to you. You saw an opportunity with Emma and her… situation, and you used it to your advantage. I'm curious though… what's your endgame?"

Killian's head snapped up, his brows furrowed in wary speculation. "My what?"

"Your end game," Neal repeated. "Your exit strategy. You got Emma to marry you so you could get at her fortune, but you must have a way out of it, right? It's not like you're gonna stick around and raise my kid."

Grinding his teeth together, Killian took a moment to rein in his anger. Adjusting his stance, he shifted his weight and tucked his thumb into his belt, projecting a posture of confidence and command. "You're right about that," Killian responded. "I'm not going to stick around and raise your kid. You forfeited whatever right you had to the child when you abandoned Emma, and once our business today is concluded, you'll have no basis for any sort of claim over either of them. Therefore, I'll be sticking around to raise my child."

"You're serious?"

"Is there anything within my tone or expression that would indicate otherwise?"

Cassidy shook his head as an incredulous scoff rasped from his lungs. "I don't get you, man."

"I wouldn't expect a man like you to understand."

Cassidy's face twisted with offense. "You don't know me. You don't know the first thing about-"

"I know the first time you laid eyes on Emma, you saw nothing but a conquest," Killian interrupted with a clipped tone. "And when you discovered who she truly was, you saw her as nothing but loot. You see nothing of her true value."

"Her true value?" Neal scoffed. "If not for the Nolan name, she'd be nothing but spoiled goods."

"You think I'm with her because she's a Nolan? You think I offered to help her because I was looking for a payday? I, like you, didn't even know her real name until after I agreed to stand in your place." Killian took in a shaky breath, silently cursing himself for losing his temper and praying his words had not carried too far. "Emma isn't spoiled. Not to me. Her only fault was putting her trust in the likes of you. A man who felt nothing but panic at the knowledge that he was to be a father."

Killian paused again. Tucking Emma's letter into his breast pocket, he made his way round to the front of the desk and stood before Cassidy, whose posture shifted into a wary stance. Collecting the heavy envelope from the desk, Killian weighed it in his hands before extending it towards Neal.

"I suppose I should thank you, Mr. Cassidy. If not for your cowardice, I wouldn't have this privilege; to be a husband and a father. A privilege that will last long after you've squandered these funds."

With a sour expression, Cassidy reached out to take the envelope, but a new thought kept Killian from relinquishing his hold just yet.

"Which begs the question… what assurance do I have that you won't come calling on us again when the money runs out?"

Cassidy sneered, but before he could reply, the study door swung open, capturing both men's attentions.

"I can think of a few reassurances," David stated. He was accompanied by George, as well as two other men, adorned in military uniforms. "It seems Mr. Cassidy was derelict in several aspects of his life. Including properly finishing out his military service. These men," he indicated to the officers, "are here to see that he appears for his court-martial before being shipped back to America to serve out his sentence."

Stunned, Killian stepped back as the military men advanced. Staying out of the two officers' way while they informed Mr. Cassidy of his rights before forcefully restraining him, Killian noted with a flare of additional panic that he'd let go of the money.

"You can't do this!" Neal protested. One of the officers handed the bank envelope back to Killian, who quickly tucked it away, which only managed to provoke Neal further. "We had a deal, Jones! I'm gonna tell anyone who'll listen that I-"

"You really think anyone is going to believe a word you say?" George cut in coolly as the officers dragged Neal towards the door. "You've no credibility and… no proof." The officers paused when George gestured for them to stop. The older man leaned in, his voice the definition of hushed menace, and his look was enough to make Cassidy cower within the officers' grip. "If you utter a single word, publicly or privately, that in any way disparages my granddaughter, my great-grandchild, my grandson-in-law, or my family in general, then you will find out just how far my reach can extend." Putting his attention back on the officers, George declared, "Take him away."

Killian stood rooted for several long seconds, reeling over what had occurred as a myriad of emotions, thoughts, and questions bombarded him. Once the loud thud of the front door closing reverberated through the house, Killian fixed his attention upon the two men who were patiently awaiting his response to their intrusion.

Swallowing hard, Killian inquired, "Did Emma tell you-"

"No," David answered, before he could finish the question. "A servant overheard your confrontation with Cassidy the other night and brought it to our attention yesterday morning."

"You… You've known since yesterday and you… you didn't say any-"

"We wanted to give you the opportunity to handle it," George replied. "But we also knew the man would likely be back for more unless we could find a way to discredit him, so we went digging into his background and discovered he was AWOL."

"We told Emma at the train station," David continued. "It took some convincing for her to go back to the estate with Mags and Leo, especially with her concerns over our reaction towards the news of what the two of you had conspired." Killian opened his mouth to start the litany of apologies gathering in his throat, but David raised his hand to stay his words. "I will give you the same assurances I gave her."

David made his way to Killian, and set a hand upon his shoulder. Killian's knees nearly buckled under its weight, and he held his breath in anticipation of the man's response.

"I won't pretend I wasn't angry, or that I didn't feel duped or even a little betrayed. But that's nothing in comparison to the gratitude and admiration I feel for you, son."

Killian's mouth fell open and his brows shot up his forehead. "You do?"

"You protected Emma," George stated, coming to stand with them. "You protected her honor, her reputation, and… her heart. Not only hers, but the child's as well." With a meaningful gleam, George captured Killian's eyes with his own. "Your child." Taking hold of Killian's other shoulder, George gave it an affectionate squeeze. "You were right, blood doesn't matter. You've been that child's father in every way that matters, and you'll be there for them all their life. They'll want for nothing. That's what matters."

Overcome, Killian ducked his head, but could hear the same emotion currently pricking the corners of his eyes as it thickly coated David's next words.

"I couldn't have asked for a better husband for my Emma, and I know you are going to be an amazing father to my grandchildren. If I could change anything at all…" His words fell away, and Killian raised his head to meet his father-in-law's gaze. A sly sort of smile crept at the corner of the man's mouth as he confessed, "I would have been the one to blacken that bastard's eye."

Killian chuckled at his father-in-law's almost pouty tone, but it soon turned into a full-bodied laugh when George quipped, "Couldn't you at least have broken his nose?"

The three men chortled, allowing the tensions of the morning to dissipate as they slapped one another good naturedly on the back and professed their affection for each other in the way that men do. Pulling his watch from his pocket, George announced that they should be getting to the train station, but Killian had one last task he wished to fulfill before departing.

Crossing to the fireplace, he took Emma's letter from his pocket and struck one of the long matches kept on the mantle. Flames caught the corner of the page, and Killian waited until it was fully engulfed before tossing it atop the grate. The edges of the paper curled, and he watched the plumes of smoke swirl up the chimney until nothing was left of Cassidy's connection to Killian's wife and child but ash. One day, he and Emma may very well tell their child the truth, but that decision would be theirs to make, and if done, it would not be prompted by shame or threats. Killian made certain of that.

~/~

Emma stood on the balcony and looked out over the vast green acreage of the estate, waiting for her husband to ready himself for dinner. He, her father, and her grandfather had arrived back a few hours earlier, and after giving her and her mother a recounting of the meeting with Neal, she and Killian had retreated to their bedroom to… rest. The initial shock and negative feelings that had first bubbled to the surface when they'd all learned the truth had given way to excitement and joy over the prospect of a new addition, and Emma felt certain they were in for a long and drawn out evening of plans that would need to be made.

While she wasn't exactly eager to sit through her parents' and grandfather's estimations of how she and Killian should proceed towards looming parenthood, she couldn't find it in herself to be truly put out either. Now that everything was out in the open, she finally felt as though she could truly embrace the future ahead.

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth at the feel of strong arms snaking their way around her waist. A moment later she was squirming in Killian's embrace and a squeal left her when the rough brush of his beard tickled the side of her neck.

"Penny for your thoughts, love?"

Emma sighed and melted against his firm chest. "I'm just preparing myself for all the toasting and not so subtle advice about to be heaped upon us."

Killian's chest rumbled with a chuckle, then much to Emma's displeasure, he pulled away, leaving her on the balcony as he briefly stepped back inside. "Not much either of us can do about it, I'm afraid," he said, making his way back out, with two small goblets of wine in his hands. "So, perhaps a bit of fortification is in order."

He handed her a partially filled glass as his brows waggled at her, causing a light laugh to spill over her lips.

"Shall we toast to our usual?" she asked, holding up her glass.

"No," he said softly, placing a hand at her hip and running his thumb over the side of her abdomen. "No more toasts to what ifs." His forget-me-not eyes sparkled in the dying light of the day as he declared, "Only assurances. Of my love for you, our baby, and our happy beginning."

"I'll drink to that," Emma said with a wide smile, clinking her glass to his and taking a small sip to complete the toast before stretching up on her toes to meet his already descending lips.

Needless to say, they were going to be late for dinner.

The End